The Tightrope Between Fate and Free Will
by MissFitt
Summary: A Hunchback of Notre Dame 2 fic. Madellaine works through the fears and anxieties surrounding her pregnancy with Quasimodo's child.


a Hunchback of Notre Dame 2 fanfic. feel free to review, but be nice!  
  
two years before the movie takes place "You've done this before, Madellaine, it shouldn't be a problem! Just ask Bonnette for one of those vials, and it can be done in an hour," Sarouch barked at his assistant as she sat on the straw mattress inside the old gypsy wagon, refurbished into his living quarters. Bonnette, a fortune teller in his traveling circus, had a great talent in herbs and plants, and he knew this little situation could be rectified right away, why did Madellaine have to put up such a fuss? Silly girl, he thought, admiring himself in the mirror, adjusting his wig so it wouldn't slide off his shiny, bald head. Many low class women like her went to Bonnette for abortificants, even Madellaine herself had done so once before. Madellaine hung her head down, her knees drawn up to her chest. She tried to hide the tears forming in her eyes, but her voice betrayed her sadness. "But why can't I keep it? I want to so much," she looked up briefly at Sarouch's back, still turned to her so he could look in the mirror. Why was he so cruel to her? She tried so hard to be useful and to make him see that she was a valuable part of the circus, why didn't he care about her? She even swallowed her pride and didn't refuse his advances. He had been sneaking into her wagon since she was twelve years old, and by the time she turned sixteen a few months ago, she stopped sleeping in a different wagon altogether. That was how this whole new situation came to being. She was pregnant again, she was absolutely sure of it. She had been happy this morning, but now as she told Sarouch the news, he was so dismissive and cold to the idea, and practically ordered her to get rid of it. She had understood the first time she got pregnant, she was only fourteen at the time, and the circus was just starting to be successful. Well, the theives it employed were successful. But either way, it was the wrong time to have a child straggling along, or so Sarouch had said. Downing the contents of the vial Bonnette gave her, Madellaine had lain in bed, clawing at her stomach, feeling the blood run down her legs and the child slip from her womb. She had cried and begged the baby, and God, to forgive her. Sarouch was her only protector, and if he cast her away...she was terrified to think of what she may have to do to survive. Laying down in one man's bed was better than laying down in many, she reasoned, and Sarouch never really harmed her, at least, not too badly anyway. "You can't keep it for the same reason as last time, a snot-nosed brat is the last thing we need. And besides, no one wants to see a magician's assistant fat and distended with child. You're prettiness is teetering as it is, after your last little fit!" Sarouch was speaking of the last time Madellaine went silly, as he called it, and cut off most of her hair with one of the knife thrower's blades. Sometimes, Madellaine had urges to hurt herself, to detroy the beauty she possessed that in actuality possessed her. She was a slave to her feminine loveliness, forced to flaunt it on stage and to let Sarouch use her to slake his own lusts. She was a peculiar sort, her nature was happy and vibrant, humorous and compassionate, but every so often, she sank, and would hide in the wagons and cry, dark thoughts swirling around in her head, some insulting her, some suggesting she do awful things. The thoughts were persistent, and dangerously attractive to her, but she always reemerged, leaving them behind for another day. She usually came out of it with her arms bandaged or an extra long skirt covering her whole leg, to hide the cuts she made on herself. Hurting made the fog disperse, jostled her back into reality. Sarouch always got mad at her when she did this, but she couldn't help it, it was as though she was compelled by her own mind, a tiny voice, syrupy with evil and self-loathing. A baby, a child of her own. Oh, she wished she could have one. Madellaine loved children, loved seeing thier eyes light up when they watched the magic shows. From her vantage point on the stage, she could also see Sarouch's thieves at work, picking the pockets and swiping the jewelry from the children's parents. She had to keep smiling and not mess up the performance. She couldn't be anything more than what was seen, a diversion. But inside, it pained her. She couldn't help but think about the children, if they would suffer because of Sarouch's greed. Would they go hungry, or be cast out on the street, because the money stolen from thier families was supposed to be for food or to pay the landlord? A baby of her own, one she could love and care for, would make her feel worthwhile, that she wasn't a horrible person because of her life. But Sarouch had the final word, as he did in just about every aspect of her life. She was an extention of him, used for his benefit, and her mere survival. She began to cry softly, her shoulders shuddering and her breath ragged. Sarouch stalked over to her and lifted her face up, cupping her chin in his long, thin fingers. "You know it is for the best. Your life isn't so bad, my little eclair, let us keep it that way for a while longer." "Maybe one day...I...can have, I can keep it?" Madellaine tried to look hopeful. Sarouch frowned. "We shall see," he muttered. "In the meantime, go to Bonnette, and get this taken care of. You'll be recovered in time for the show tommarow night in Bordeaux, and all will be well again. And Madellaine, this is an important show for us. If you go silly between now and tommarow night, and can't go on, I may be forced to punish you." His voice turned silky, and made Madellaine feel sick in her stomach. "I don't like using the switch on you, but you can only push me so far, my dear." Madellaine wiped her eyes and sniffed a bit, nodding that she understood. She certainly did not want him to beat her again. It wasn't the pain that frightened her; the angry, glowing red lashes across her bottom and legs healed in time. What was so awful about being punished was how much he took from her, every ounce of dignity and worth she felt she might have possessed. This was not a parent disciplining an unruly child, or a petty lover's game, it was Sarouch exherting his absolute power over her, lashing her sensitive flesh as she trembled and waited for it to be over, for the moment he would drop the switch and stalk out of the wagon, leaving her in agony, her lower half tightened and burning, her soul aching, her spirit as broken as an Arabian horse under a wealthy prince. He was right. Best get this overwith now, so she could quickly begin to forget it all. Later that day, she was curled up in the bed again, this time alone, the curtains around the one window drawn tight. Pains tore through her stomach, cramping her entire lower half as the blood rushed out of her, her uterus contracting and clenching, expelling what would have become her beloved child. She cried and begged for release from this pain, but knew that wouldn't happen. This was a punishment, the pain she must endure for killing her baby, poisoning it with Bonnette's bitter pennyroyal. In the midst of her Hell, she had a sort of halluncination, a light glaring into her eyes and an image of a laughing child floating across her vision. It was a little girl, with large green eyes like her own, a head of black curls like her father, chubby hands reaching up to her, asking to be held and comforted, but this beautiful image began to distort, the child beginning to turn, like a shapeshifter, into a hideously malformed wretch, screeching and clawing at itself and her in utter malice, then melted into a stain on the floor, a large, slimy slug the color of blood. As a mother, there would have been more to her than what was seen, and all the love and compassion Madellaine was able to give would finally have an outlet. But this was the child who would never be, the one who in it's early stages of life, trickled out of Madellaine's body and onto the thick wool blanket underneath her, which protected the mattress from this filth."I'm so sorry, my darling, I'm so sorry...I love you."  
  
one year after the movie ended "That's it, Madellaine, you're doing good, make a wider circle with your hips after the first turn," Esmeralda instructed her, never breaking rythym with her tambourine. Esmeralda's son Zephyr also kept the beat going on the kidskin drum. The three of them practiced the routine out in the feilds just outside the city gates. It was a warm summer day, and the annual Jour D'Amour festival was in less than a week. Esmeralda was going to be performing as usual, but this year, she had a new dance partner. Madellaine would be joining her on the stage. After months of working closely with the gypsy woman, she had the routine down, and was almost completely confident that she had mastered the moves. To help put her in the right mood, both she and Esmeralda wore thier matching costumes as they practiced, simple apple green dresses, accented by lace-up bodices embroidered with colorful threads. Madellaine tried to focus on her moves, especially the complicated series of steps and hip rolls mid-routine, but she kept finding herself growing dizzy, and felt a little sick by early afternoon. "Can we take a break? I feel a little tired," Madellaine shook her head and tried to clear it out. Esmeralda took notice of how she was acting, and agreed that it was time for a break. "It's past noon, we should stop and eat something anyway," Esmeralda shooed Zephyr away, telling him to take a snack from the basket she brought with her and go play on the hill with Djali. She wanted to talk to Madellaine alone for a while. Her intuition was buzzing like a whole hive of bees, telling her something was up. As the little boy, who wasn't so little anymore, growing bigger and stronger like his father everyday, scampered off with the bleating goat, Esmeralda reached into the basket, retrieved her wineskin, which today was filled with water and gracefully lowered herself down on the ground, with Madellaine doing the same beside her. They passed the water back and forth for several moments, and Madellaine realized how thirsty she was. "So, do you think you'll feel well enough to perform at the festival?" Esmeralda asked. Madellaine wiped the perspiration off her brow and nodded. "I think so, I just feel a little tired today. I was up pretty late last night too. Quasimodo finally finnished carving the posts on the bed, and well, we had to christen it," Madellaine smiled and didn't elaborate, letting Esmeralda think what she will of it. Quasimodo had been working non-stop for the past few months on redoing the entire belltower of the cathedral, starting right after they were married last Christmas Eve. He had moved all the repair supplies that were stored up there down to the cathedrals basement and built new furniture for them, including a new table for all of Quasimodo's wood carvings, and their marriage bed. He was now the official caretaker of the cathedral, not just the bellringer, and the wages given him by the archdeacon were enough for them to afford to rent out a home in town, but he couldn't bring himself to leave the place he had always known as his home, and Madellaine loved the cathedral and the belltower, the solitude and peace that filled the entire place. It was truly their home now, and every night after he rang the evening vespers, they sat out on the balcony overlooking the city and basked in their newfound happiness. It felt surreal to both of them at times, almost impossible to believe that this was their life now, they were free, and finally had the love they had craved their whole lives. Madellaine felt a blush come over her cheeks as she thought about all this, and briefly relived the events of last night, their first night away from the sleeping mat and onto the new bed Quasi had made for them. He had insisted they wait until it was finnished completely before they used it, and kept the work in progress hidden under a large tarp, making Madellaine promise she wouldn't peek. The wait had been worth it, the bed was beautiful, and so was the experience they shared within it's soft embrace. "Have the two of you been...christening a lot of the furniture lately?" Esmeralda asked slyly, reaching into her basket again and taking out two apples, tossing one to Madellaine. "Well, we are newlyweds," Madellaine answered, not so sure she wanted to talk about it in depth, but still reveling in the happiness thinking about that part of her life gave her. She dreamily rolled the apple around in her hands. She wasn't very hungry, in fact she felt nauseus, but was still in a good mood. Her beautiful Quasimodo, so gentle, so loving, his sweet smile and shining eyes lit her heart on fire. What they had was so incredibly different that what she had with Sarouch, he had wanted power over her, to use her for his own benefit, and she let him. It was the only way she ever felt accepted, the only way she ever had the slightest notion of what it was like to be loved, until now. Quasimodo saw her as something precious, someone to be loved and respected, and that gave Madellaine a new feeling, a sense of being a complete person. "I'm so glad you two are happy. You know, I think the strongest bonds of love are formed in extraordinary circumstances, like the two of you, and even Phoebus and me. Quasi is going to be so thrilled to see you up on stage dancing, he always loves watching you perform," Esmeralda continued talking, and eyed Madellaine. She looked different, but she was not quite sure how. "I know, I remember last summer, at the festival, when I did my first public tightrope act. I was so nervous, but knowing he was down there made me feel better." "I can't believe it's been a year already since you first came to Paris. The festival is rolling around again, and once again, you'll be the shining star of it. Your dancing has come a long way, I think you'll be ready, except for one thing," Esmeralda knew there was no turning back now, this was the only way to bring it up and confirm what she suspected. "The day of the festival, do you think you will be on your woman's time? That can impede dancing a little, with the occational pains that come with it." Madellaine thought for a moment, trying to recall her last flux. Her menstrual cycle had always been steady, and she was usually quite good at predicting it. As she thought back over the last few weeks, she slowly began to turn pale, a grey tinge overtaking her face as she realized that she hadn't gotten her menses in over nine weeks. A jolt ran through her body, shaking her, could it be? Did she want it to be true? Well, of course it was possible, she and Quasi had been married almost six months now, but she had never thought about it. The realization hit her full force, yes, she had to be pregnant, skipped menses, the dizziness and sickness, there was no other explanation! She began to laugh softly to herself, then louder, finally giggling hysterically, tears streaming down her face. Esmeralda joined in the laughter, hugging her friend tightly. "So does this mean what I expected it to?" Esmeralda asked, not really expecting much of an answer. Madellaine could only nod and smile joyfully. This was what she had always wanted, she would finally have a child in her arms, a helpless new life that depended on her, that she could do wonderful things for, someone she could raise to be a good soul, and hopefully atone for what she had done in the past. Most of all, this was another person she could call family, and another person who would love her unconditionally, and she would love him in return. Or her, it didn't matter. This would be someone....beautiful. Madellaine thought about that for a moment. Quasimodo's face entered her mind, and she thought back to the second abortion she had, the vision of the malformed scrap of humanity that was her child. Had she misinterpreted that whole thing? Could it have been showing her the future, what the child she would finally have be like? Quasimodo was here on earth now, and she loved him no matter what he looked like. His appearance did not impede him much anymore, most parisians knew him and were no longer afraid or taunting, but what if their child had the same misshappen appearance? Other children would torment him, thier youth denying them the maturity to accept differences. Would he be accepted by the town, or would they cast him out, cast the whole family out, for bringing another like that into the world? Madellaine's joy quickly turned into confusion, then fear. She fell into Esmeralda's arms and cried again, telling her everything she thought. The gypsy woman stroked her hair and tried to sooth her, but she did not know what to say to make this any better. Yes, there was a chance that this child would look like its father, but then again, it may not. She held Madellaine's tear-streaked face in her hands, looking into her green eyes. "Madellaine, there are some things we have no control over. I believe some things are meant to happen, but they don't always have to happen in a certain way," She placed one hand on Madellaine's belly, still very flat. "You are meant to be a mother, no matter what this child is or isn't, it will always be yours, but that doesn't mean you have to have it in this life. There are certain things that can be done..." "NO!" Madellaine cried out. "I won't kill it, not again!" Esmeralda looked at her in shock, and she explained that she knew all about the herb, the pennyroyal that would get rid of the unborn babe. She confided in her what had happened when she was still with Sarouch, and Esmeralda hugged her again. "I'm sorry, I had no idea. Lord, he was so wrong for making you do that. A man may have been there for the fun part, but ultimately, it's a woman's life that is the most drastically changed. But that doesn't matter now, what's done is done. This is your life now, and your decision," Esmeralda smiled at her and tried to instill some hope. "I'll help you in any way I can. There are a few things that can be done, spells mostly, to protect an unborn child." Madellaine was a bit skeptical. After the life she had known for eighteen years, she wasn't so sure she believed in magick, or in anything that she couldn't fully grasp. But then again, there was more to Quasimodo, and to her, then what could be seen. They had intangible souls, wills and dreams formed independantly from anything empirical. They were different people than what would have been expected to come out of their upbringings and lives, that meant they had free will. Could her free will be strong enough to ensure this child would be normal and healthy? Madellaine certainly hoped so. That night, she told Quasimodo the news, and they stayed up until nearly dawn discussing this. Ultimately, he was overjoyed at the idea of starting thier family, though well aware of what the possible outcomes were. In the end, they both decided that fate held the baby's future in it's hands, as it did with every child in every mother's womb. Fate was such a mysterious thing, such a divine concept, especially in a circumstance such as this, and only prayer and sheer will could possibly have any affect on it. After the long talk, Madellaine was exhausted, and curled up in her husband's powerful arms as they lay in bed, leaning against his chest, listening to his comforting heartbeat. "No matter what, I'll always be here," he whispered to her. "And I will always protect you, and anyone else who comes along. I love you both." "I love you too," Madellaine murmured as she drifted off to sleep, and dreamed of holding a child in her arms. She couldn't see its face or body, only its eyes, and they were as beautiful as Quasimodo's. Several days later, Madellaine and Esmeralda performed at the festival, to the delighted cheers of the crowd. From her condition and from nerves, Madellaine found herself behind the stage soon before she had to go on, wretching and heaving horribly. But the performance went on as planned. Later that day, when La Fidele, the great jeweled bell and cornerstone of the whole Jour D'Amour tradition, was rung and the couples announced their love before the whole town, Madellaine felt a stronger sense of hope, comforted by the happiness of the day. In love, there was the strongest power, and her heart was filled with love today, and everyday. She could take on anything. When she and Quasimodo stepped onto the platform, Madellaine yelled at the top of her lungs, "I love Quasimodo!" and then said, low enough for only him to hear, "And I love our baby, simply because it's ours." With that, she kissed him lovingly, the roar of the crowd's approval hardly noticed.  
  
five months later  
  
The seasons continued their eternal cycle. Autumn came early this year, the leaves turning gold and brown and the air turning cooler by early September. By the time November rolled in, icy winds tore through the city, and Madellaine entered her seventh month of pregnancy. She often thought about if the cold was an omen, but most of the time dismissed the thought right away. As her belly swelled more and more everyday, Madellaine found herself awash with a newfound peace. She still wondered constantly what her child would look like, but she no longer panicked over it. Esmeralda had been a wonderful friend throughout all of this, using her knowledge of gypsy magick and casting spells of protection on Madellaine and on the baby. Esmeralda would be delivering the child herself. Her mother had been a midwife, and she had delivered many babies in her life. When she had Zephyr, she refused any help from a midwife, and instead insisted that only Phoebus be present to catch their son when he came out. Madellaine trusted her completely, and knew there wasn't anyone better suited to help her through labor. One particularly cold morning, Madellaine made her way across the city, her long wool cloak draped around her, it's billowing cut nearly hiding her large stomach, and went to see Esmeralda at hers and Phoebus's home near the Palace of Justice. She was greeted at the door by Esmeralda and Zephyr, and she promtly hugged the both of them tightly. Madellaine was beginning to think of Zephyr almost as little brother. His boundless energy, while very exhausting after a while, was nonetheless endearing. He loved to place his hand on her belly and feel the baby move, and his innocence and childish wonder at the beginnings of a new life charged her with an energy that was comforting. Today Esmeralda was going to be casting the last spell before the baby was born. After this, she knew there was nothing more they could do except wait until January, and see the child in the flesh. She led Madellaine into the house, upstairs to the bedroom and told her to remove her cloak and lay down. Zephyr stayed in the room and observed what was going on. The souls of children and animals were closer to heaven, Esmeralda had told Madellaine once, and it was always good to have them close by when performing magick. As Madellaine settled onto the bed, Zephyr crawled up beside her, resting his head on her belly, listening intently. "Is he telling you anything?" Madellaine jokingly asked. She had begun to refer to the baby as he, as she was beginning to feel more and more that it was going to be a boy. "Yeah, he wants to come out!" Zephyr replied. "And we want you to come out too!" He said in the direction of her belly, his gap-toothed grin melting her heart. He was as excited as anyone else about the upcoming birth. Esmeralda approached the bed, her magick supplies in hand. She carried an earthenware bowl of cold water from the nearby river, and a sharp silver knife with an intricately carved wooden handle that looked positively ancient. "Okay, Zephyr, you can stay, but you have to move out of the way." As he scooted over to the other side of the bed, Esmeralda began to unbutton Madellaine's dress, pulling a blanket over her legs, up to her hips to preserve her modesty, and exposed her belly, the marble white skin patterned delicately with sky blue veins and stretched taut. She was so large, they both were beginning to wonder if they had miscalculated, and the baby would be due even sooner. "Are you ready?" Esmeralda asked. Madellaine nodded, closing her eyes and concentrating all her thoughts and personal power to the task at hand. A romany chant began to eminate from the gypsy's lips as she held the knife over the baby and poured the cold water from the bowl down the blade, letting it trickle over the razor edge and onto Madellaine's belly. This was a spell of protection that normally wasn't done until after the child was born, but they figured it couldn't hurt to do it now as well. The water carried the power and edge of the knife with it, instilling a strong energy to guard the child from all things in this world and any other. Since it was just taken from the icy river, the freezing water spilling over Madellaine's belly made her cry out and shiver, but she didn't break her focus, and used the energy of the cold in her purpose. She had never experienced such a determination before, such a hardening of her will to do anything possible to ensure the welfare of her child. Could this be the maternal instinct? Could it be the profound mystical side of womanhood she had always somehow felt twinges of, but could never identify? Perhaps, but no matter what it was, Madellaine trusted it, and went with it. There was nothing else she could possibly do. She went into labor just after dawn on Christmas Eve, the day of hers and Quasimodo's first wedding aniversary. A light blanket of snow covered the city, and the cobblestone streets were slick with ice, with Quasimodo ignored it as he rushed to get Esmeralda and bring her to the belltower. Madellaine insisted that her child be born within the church, one final expression of her faith and determination. Esmeralda arrived right away, Zephyr in tow. She hadn't been sure if Esmeralda would allow the boy to be at the actual birth, but she was glad he was there. For the first few hours, her pains were infrequent, but strong. Esmeralda made sure the fire in the hearth was blazing, to keep the entire tower warm, and also to serve a more mystical purpose. She threw a handful of dried sage into the flames, the strong aroma filling the air, purifying the birthing area. Zephyr stayed close to Madellaine the whole time, feeling very important that he got to be the one to keep the cloth on her forehead cool and moist, and bravely listened to and watched Madellaine moan and writhe in pain. In the grand tradition of fathers-to-be, Phoebus had taken Quasimodo away to a tavern to get drunk. At first, he resisted the idea, wanting to stay with his wife and comfort her, but Phoebus insisted. "Believe me, Quasi, you don't want to be there. Childbirth is a woman's area, you won't have any place there at all." "Are you sure she'll be alright?" Quasimodo was utterly terrified at this whole experience, not knowing what could possibly happen. Phoebus put his arm around his friend's hunched over shoulders and assured him, "She could not be in any more competent hands. Now let's go try to find the bottom of a tankard, and by the time the hangover is worn off, you'll be a father!" The labor progressed quickly. By late afternoon, the pains were right on top of each other, and the child was ready to make it's way into the world. Esmeralda suspended long leather straps from the canopy beams on the bed, making stirrups for Madellaine to loop her legs through, and propped her back up against the pillows, positioning her for the birth. "Madellaine, Madellaine! Stop crying, and look at me, look into my eyes!" Her tone was harsh, but confident, and it made Madellaine focus through the haze of agony she was in. She made eye contact, and tried to breathe deeply. This was it, soon she would see her baby. A passing fear overcame her for a moment, then was replaced by the same determination she had been feeling these past months. The powers of nature and existence took over, and with a strength she didn't even know she had, began to bear down hard, pushing the baby out of her womb. The pain was worse than anything she had ever felt in her life, but it didn't stop her. She propelled herself onwards, feeling the head begin to emerge between her widespread legs. She saw a smile appear on Esmeralda's face, and she was took it as a good sign. "That's it, Madellaine, I see it! The top of the head is showing, bright red hair too! Keep going, it's almost over!" For all her strength and resolve, Madellaine could not overcome the pain, and her bloodcurdling screams carried into the early evening, but they brought with them the announcement of a birth, a new life brought into the world. It was a girl, Madellaine had been wrong on that hunch, but that didn't matter one bit.  
  
five years later  
  
"Jeanne! Hurry up, it's almost time for mass!" Madellaine called up into the upper loft of the belltower, trying to speed along the process of her daughter getting dressed. It was Christmas morning, and Jeanne insisted on wearing the new frock Esmeralda had made for her and given to her yesterday on her birthday, but that meant fumbling with a lot of buttons and hooks, things she was just learning to master. "I'm almost done, Mama! Just two more buttons!" Jeanne called back down. Madellaine tapped her foot impatiently, and Quasimodo laughed. "There's still plenty of time, and it's not like we have to go very far to get there. Let her do what she wants." Quasimodo, the voice of reason. He was a wonderful father, and Madellaine loved him now more than ever. When she watched him play with Jeanne, her heart swelled to bursting. Being a wife, but more importantly, being a mother, was more incredible than she had ever imagined. Yes, fate had smiled on her, but only after she had excersised her will to make that so. Fate and free will are not absolutes, they do not cancel each other out, as Madellaine had once thought. They worked together to form each person's life, and this Christmas, she had a life definately worth celebrating for, and thanking God. Finally dressed and ready, Jeanne leaped down from the loft, landing expertly on her feet. She had definately taken after her parents in agility and balance, but it still scared Madellaine when she did that. "Please use the ladder, Jeanne. I don't want you to break your leg, or worse!" She tried to sound firm, but looking at her daughter, it was hard to keep any sort of stern composure. Jeanne was the most beautiful child either of them had ever seen. Her hair tumbled down her back in ringlets the color of fox fur, and her wide, dark blue eyes dominated her round, flawless face. She was tall for her age, and slender, and carried herself with a dignity and a self-proclaimed authority beyond her years. As the family made their way down the long, winding staircase, into the main room of the cathedral where the Christmas day mass was being held, Madellaine's heart briefly clenched as she watched her daughter limp slightly. One of her legs was shorter than the other considerably, and she was bowlegged. That was the only imperfection on her entire body, a reminder of the cruelty and pain that does indeed exist in the world, and must exist. Without Hell for comparison, Heaven's light was just a flicker of a common candle. Madellaine always felt a slight twinge of heartache when she saw her daughter limp, but it passed quickly. Jeanne was just as strong as any other child, and needed no one's pity. "Are we going to have Christmas dinner at uncle Phoebus's house tonight?" Jeanne asked hopefully. She loved spending time with Phoebus and Esmeralda, and had an adorable crush on Zephyr, now a strapping thirteen year old young man. He saw the little girl as a bit of a pest, but loved her still. Perhaps fate had something in mind for them as well, and with Jeanne's determination, which was just as strong as her mother's, it was a definate possibility. "Yes, we are. They can't wait to see you again," Quasimodo answered, scooping her up and setting her on his shoulders, tickling her sides as she squealed with delight. "They want to see how much you've grown now that you're five years old!" "But they just saw me yesterday, Papa! I couldn't have grown that much in one day!" Ever the sensible one. "Really? Was it only one day? You seem so much older already!" Quasimodo said, only half joking. They arrived just in time. The alter boys were lighting the candles and the choir was just beginning the first hymm. They joined Phoebus, Esmeralda and Zephyr in the front row, falling right into place with the holy surroundings. Madellaine tried to focus on the mass, but kept finding herself marveling at her daughter and husband, and in the midst of the communal celebration, said her own thank yous to God, and to herself. She knew now that she would always have to maintain a balance in faith, as well as in all other things, just like walking a tightrope. There would always be the divine and the human, and in the very center of her being, Madellaine was content, for she felt overwhelmed with happiness from both. 


End file.
